


rules

by eeshlyye



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeshlyye/pseuds/eeshlyye
Summary: There are rules for a reason.





	rules

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 5 years post Ride or Die. Basic premise taken from Hate to Want You by Alisha Rai where the main character and her love interest meet up once a year to bang on her birthday with no other contact the rest of the year.

She knows the rules like the back of her hand.

  1. No contact outside this one day per year
  2. No conversation
  3. No lingering afterward

They shook on these terms at the start, hands lingering for a beat before the two of them crashed into each other for the kind of desperate, sloppy kiss borne from relief and reunion. She knows the rules, knows that they’re there to protect him -- but neither of them were ever that good at doing what they were supposed to when it came to each other.

“New tattoo?” Logan murmurs, thumb brushing over the stark black lines on the inside of her forearm. “It looks good on you.”

“That’s Rule #2, mister.” Rolling over onto her stomach, she props her head up on her arms and just looks at him, drinking in her fill for the year. Hair mussed, a fading flush on his cheeks -- he’s as beautiful as he was the day they met. “No conversation.”

He leans over to press his mouth to the back of her shoulder, large hand spanning warm across her bare back, and she shivers. “That’s not the rule,” he says, grinning. “The rule was, no conversation  _ during _ . This is after.”

“That’s Rule #3,” she scolds. “No lingering.”

He huffs. “You’ve literally stolen a car before. I don’t think you have much room to judge, Troublemaker.”

She smiles then, surrendering when he draws her to him. This kiss is sweet and unhurried, a stark contrast to 10 minutes before when he was sucking on her tongue and fucking into her so hard she slid up the hotel bed. This time, they kiss lazily, without urgency or a goal, content to simply touch each other while sweat cools on their skin. She loses herself to it, to Logan, to the slide of his tongue against hers and the plane of his chest under her fingertips, drawing it out as long as she can.

As if by drawing it out they can delay ever having to leave or say good-bye.

When they break apart however long later, she blinks back tears and tucks herself into him, allowing herself a moment before it all comes to an end the way it does every year. His breathing’s unsteady on her forehead as he wraps his arms around her.

It always, always comes back to this: just the two of them, alone and brokenhearted.

“Let’s play a game,” he suggests hoarsely.

“Ok,” she whispers.

He exhales shakily and starts, quietly painting a what-if world with his words. “I’m not wanted by the FBI. You still go off to college, but I get a legitimate job to save up for gas or plane tickets to visit you. We spend your breaks together. Sometimes long-distance is hard, but we make it through because we’re in love.”

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, heart shattering in her ribcage.

“When you graduate, you get a great job in a new city and we move in together. We find a nice apartment with enough garage space for our cars and plenty of windows for sunlight. I’d show up at your work during the day to take you to lunch and make all your coworkers jealous. We’d spend the weekends together, exploring the city or hiking or taking road trips.

“And for your birthday.” Here his voice breaks. “For your birthday, I’d take you wherever you want to go. Somewhere with a great view where we could be together and not care about anything, because...we’d be happy.”

When he finishes, tears spill hot down her cheeks as she imagines it in her mind, dangerously wanting that make-believe world to be real more than anything she’s ever wanted before.

_ This  _ is why they made the rules, why they agreed to them in the first place. Not just to protect him from being caught, but to protect themselves from this hurt. Most of the year, it’s a low-grade grief that follows her around, disappearing the few hours they’re together, returning in full force the day after and lingering heavy for weeks. She doesn’t dare ask Logan what it’s like for him, if the best day of his year sits next to the worst, just like hers.

She doesn’t think she wants to know.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I’m so, so sorry--”

“ _ Don’t _ ,” she says, putting a hand to his mouth. He looks as regretful as she feels and she hates herself a little for what she says next. “That’s Rules 2 and 3.”

He draws back from her and shuts his eyes for a long moment. When he opens them, they’re glassy. “I should go.”

She doesn’t respond as he leaves the bed and starts putting his clothes back on with quick, efficient movements. Instead she watches. By design, there’s so much about him she doesn’t know anymore and if she could, she’d ask about everything. But this -- looking at him, memorizing him, loving him from a distance -- this, she allows herself to do.

Logan leans down to kiss her one last time, hand curling around the back of her neck to bring her closer to him. It’s a searing good-bye kiss that leaves her gasping when he backs away too soon, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he goes.

“Happy birthday, Troublemaker,” he says at the door, voice tinged with heartache, and then there’s that devastatingly hot, sweet smile she’s known since she was 18. “See you next year.”

“See you next year,” she echoes, but he’s already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @ matsuoclan on tumblr


End file.
